Lessie: Bride of Utah (American Mail-Order Bride 45) by Kristin Holt Page A

the furniture carefully chosen by one who knew all about it so everything matched and created a pleasing home environment. But somehow, he knew Lessie wouldn’t spend him into the poorhouse.
    “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
    He saw her take in the eight chairs around the table, the potential for dinner parties or perhaps children seated around this table with them.
    “I like it just as it is.” Her smile— so genuine and real nearly knocked him onto his back.
    Oh, yeah. He definitely needed to see Lessie smile more often.
    “The kitchen’s through here.” He led her through the pantry with cupboards with glass-fronted doors displaying serving dishes, drawers for the silverware.
    He turned on the gas lamps to give her a better view of the modern kitchen with all of today’s conveniences. Running hot and cold water at the sink. A large, beautifully finished ice box . A large and efficient range. A small table meant for intimate meals for one or two. A doorway led onto the back porch that faced south.
    “Come with me.”
    “All right.”
    He opened the back door, stepped onto the porch and brought her with him. Crickets hummed merrily in the bushes and the cooling evening air carried with it the scent of newly cut grass. “See that new house next door?”
    He eased her in front of him, clasped both of her shoulders in his hands. He liked standing this near, the fragrance of her hair and skin teasing his nose.
    “I do.”
    “See how these porch stairs lead to that cobbled walk?” He pointed at the walk and its eventual terminal at a mirror-image set of stairs onto the neighbor’s back porch.
    The house was dark, just as it should be.
    “And just around the corner,” he gestured toward the front of the house, “another exit and porch off the sitting room leads to another paved walkway to a matching door at the neighbor’s house.”
    “Whose?” She turned a little, to better see him over her shoulder.
    Long shadows stretched across the thin lawn, planted only two months previous. Before long, the grass would be thick enough to cut.
    The lengthening shadows and fading daylight only served to remind him he hadn’t offered his underweight bride anything more to nourish herself than lemonade since their arrival at home— and that had been at least an hour earlier.
    “You’re hungry. I should feed you.”
    “Nonsense. Tell me whose house is next door.”
    “Guess.”
    She chuckled. “Let me see. Hmmm. Who have I met thus far? Our minister at the Baptist church?”
    “No.” Her good humor made him smile.
    “A very nice old woman who will become my closest friend.”
    “No. She lives next door on the other side.”
    “Good to know. Who, then?”
    He took full advantage of the moment and slipped his arms about her middle, pulling her back against his chest. “That house,” he pointed, then restored his hold about her tiny waist, “is a perfect mirror image of this one. Precisely the same in every way, except for a bit of coloring on the outside and a few finishing touches on the inside.”
    “You don’t say?”
    “In fact, the builder called these twin homes.”
    She laughed. A joyful, bright melody that snagged his heart and made him feel more hopeful than he’d been in a long while.
    “It’s rather convenient,” he whispered in her ear, “for my Second to walk to work. It’ll be most convenient, too, I suppose, for my wife—”
    She spun in his arms and before he could say another word, she’d slipped her arms about his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.
     

     
    Lessie’s enjoyment of this palatial home her husband had built doubled upon realizing Josie would live next door. Josie would be nearby, enjoy the same luxury, the same convenience.
    Most importantly, solid proof that Adam had every intention of returning to Ogden City with Josie.
    Joy fairly vibrated within Lessie as she followed her husband upstairs to tour the grand second floor. The residence carried the faint smells